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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718208">Save a Speeder, Ride a Cyborg</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase'>coldishcase</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bottoming from the Top, Dark Side Obi-Wan, Force Choking, Inquisitor Obi-Wan, Kinda pillow princess vader tho, M/M, Mentioned Leia, Riding, Top Vader, he has not arms or legs give him a break, suited vader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vader isn't sure whether Obi-Wan is his friend or his enemy.</p>
<p>The only thing he is sure of now, is that Obi-Wan is <i>his</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Vader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Vaderwan</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Save a Speeder, Ride a Cyborg</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a saying; that you should keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.</p>
<p>Vader keeps Obi-Wan close and decides it does not matter whether he is a friend or an enemy, so long as he is kept on a short leash.</p>
<p>Well, a short leash that gives the appearance of being a long one. He has given his once-Master command of the Inquisitors, allowing him to mold them to his liking, and to weed them out as he sees fit. He has done well so far, under Vader’s watchful eye.</p>
<p>It should, perhaps, be surprising that Obi-Wan has taken to the Dark Side like a fish to water… but Vader can’t find it within himself to be surprised of anything anymore. Especially not when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi.</p>
<p>He might also find <em>this</em> odd, this new change to their relationship… but he knew things couldn’t be the same between them—not after Mustafar, and not after Obi-Wan’s subsequent capture and arduous turning process.</p>
<p>His once-friend fought the dark, and he fought it admirably, valiantly. Futilely. Everyone has a weakness, a breaking point, and time was all it took for Vader to find Kenobi’s.</p>
<p>This is, perhaps, the best possible outcome, in any case.</p>
<p>There are certainly <em>worse</em> possibilities than what they are to one another now.</p>
<p>Vader removes his helmet, and as he does, hears his door open with a hiss of hydraulics. Right on time. Punctual, as always.</p>
<p>“You’re early,” he lies anyways, simply to taunt his Chief Inquisitor. “Eager, are we?”</p>
<p>His ventilator wheezes, and he can nearly feel the way Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at him behind his back.</p>
<p>“Would you like for me to leave and come back?” Kenobi questions, as if it wouldn’t pain him in the slightest to do so.</p>
<p>How infuriating. “Help me out of this,” Vader commands rather than answering. Obi-Wan’s force signature turns smug anyways.</p>
<p>Words don’t pass between them as Kenobi assists him in removing his many mechanical parts, pulling away the messy layers of wires and leather and durasteel that keep him alive and mobile. It is a long, arduous process, and an unpleasant one. The suit has many failings, one of which being that it nearly tears him apart as much as it holds him together. Vader could build a better one himself, he knows, but he dares not attempt it.</p>
<p>Vader has his own leash. One with a kill switch, and the other end held tight in Palpatine’s gnarled hand. This suit allows him to walk free, yet it also keeps him restrained.</p>
<p>The quiet guilt present in Obi-Wan’s eyes each time he assists with this is as satisfying as it is maddening. Vader is <em>powerful</em>, he needs no pity. And yet, it feels good to know that Obi-Wan suffers with him, that his heart weighs heavy with guilt at seeing the damage he has done to the man who was once Anakin Skywalker.</p>
<p>Vader is strong, but perhaps this is a weakness, the way he lets Obi-Wan unsuit him, simply for the feeling of another human’s skin against his own.</p>
<p>It might be weakness, but it’s one he allows himself to indulge in. He lives his life inside a suit; a layer of separation permanently between him and the rest of the galaxy. These moments are the only ones in which his skin can be touched by something other than unforgiving durasteel.</p>
<p>And Obi-Wan’s touch is pleasant, he must admit. His old Master is always gentle, always careful with him as he frees him from his mechanical prison.</p>
<p>The last of his restraints holding him in place are released, and then he is being carried.</p>
<p>When he was alone, Vader would spend days at a time in his suit, only leaving it with the aid of more machines when he had become so damaged that he needed to soak in bacta, and the suit needed to be sterilized. Now, he has Obi-Wan.</p>
<p>With him, he can afford to leave his suit more often, he can give himself the consistent medical care he needs, he can have bacta treatments daily and sanitize the suit daily. And he can do this, because Obi-Wan is skilled and loyal, and despite being the one to make Vader this vulnerable… He’s also the only one that can be trusted to protect him, to not take advantage of his weakness.</p>
<p>Their new relationship may be tenuous and undefined now, but neither one of them has any doubt that the other would allow them to die. Obi-Wan would defend Vader’s life with his dying breath, and Vader would tear apart systems just to keep Obi-Wan at his side.</p>
<p>The silence between them continues as Obi-Wan carries him to his bed, carefully setting him down amongst the pillows and soft blankets.</p>
<p>Soft things. Soft like Padme was, making what little is left of his heart ache for what he cannot have.</p>
<p>He has Obi-Wan, at least. And perhaps someday, he will no longer be under Sidious’ thumb, and he can have more.</p>
<p>Some droids take away his suit, and then he is left alone with Obi-Wan.</p>
<p>The bed dips, Kenobi returning to him with a container of bacta. So long as he has this applied daily by hand, he doesn’t need the full baths so often. It’s a nice change, a relief to spend less of his time fully submerged in it. And more than that, he feels more whole, his wounds from the suit not piling up so much, and he is beginning to feel less like he is kept barely in stasis, and more like he is actually healing. His skin, though still mottled and burned, is less pale. His face, though still scarred and hairless, no longer hurts to move for speech or expressions.</p>
<p>They have met one another halfway; Vader becoming more human with each passing day, and Obi-Wan becoming more of a monster with each atrocity he commits by Vader’s side.</p>
<p>“Tell me if anything hurts,” Kenobi says softly, breaking his train of thought. He says it every time, as if Vader could forget to say something when he’s not reminded.</p>
<p>It is a little tiresome, but considerate, so Vader nods and says nothing.</p>
<p>Perhaps it is fair, he thinks. After all, he hid many pains and secrets from Obi-Wan when they were brothers.</p>
<p>And now, he has nothing left to hide.</p>
<p>Vader looks up at the durasteel ceiling, at the vague reflection of himself and Kenobi amongst the sterile white sheets of his bed.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s hands run over him, his touch light and careful as he massages bacta over every inch of his damaged skin. His hands start at his shoulders, touch firm as he kneads cool, tingling gel into the muscles, sore from carrying most of the suit’s weight. He turns him on his side to get to his back, cool fingers taking away all the knots of pain he has accumulated since his last treatment.</p>
<p>He sighs, feeling himself begin to relax as Obi-Wan’s hands ghost briefly over his neck, dabbing gel along the irritated skin where it meets the edge of his embedded respirator.</p>
<p>His breath still comes in wheezes, the only sound filling the space between them. He used to hate the mechanical, forced breathing, but he can appreciate it now. It forces patience onto him, and provides a steady, constant, never-changing pace which, surprisingly enough, has done more to help him meditate than anything he ever learned as a jedi.</p>
<p>Granted, Vader still doesn’t meditate often, but it is sometimes useful to, before and after meeting with his new Master.</p>
<p>At least, when he does, he kills less of his staff, and therefore needs less meetings with Sidious.</p>
<p>And less meetings with Sidious is, generally, best for everyone’s health.</p>
<p>Kenobi’s hands make their way across his chest, carefully turning all the stings and aches into a pleasant tingle. He sighs, letting his eyes fall shut and trusting Obi-Wan to keep his open.</p>
<p>It turns out, that for all Vader believed in what he said those years ago on Mustafar… Obi-Wan was right. Palpatine <em>is</em> evil, and he didn’t save Padme like he promised to. Vader drove her away himself, he destroyed everything he loved, and he could have lost Obi-Wan, too.</p>
<p>But he didn’t, and he found his old Master on the dusty sand planet where Anakin Skywalker once lived. A good place to hide—if Vader had not had to deal with a traitorous bounty hunter that foolishly hid in Jabba’s unsympathetic shadow, he never would have gone to the damned planet, and he never would have spotted Obi-Wan there, caught in the market, shopping at the most inopportune time.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan admitted he had seen the imperial ship’s arrival, and had simply gone on with his day, not expecting anyone who might recognize him to come to the planet. A Sandstorm was expected to rage for the next few days, and he was low on food, so he had no other options but to go to the market or go hungry.</p>
<p>If anyone but Vader himself had gone, his gamble would have paid off.</p>
<p>It didn’t.</p>
<p>And now he has Obi-Wan, one relic from his past, reforged into something new. What they share can no longer be called <em>love</em>, exactly… but it’s something. And something is more than nothing.</p>
<p>He has had nothing for too long.</p>
<p>Those careful, gentle hands work efficiently over his body, down his chest, down past his hips and onto his scarred thighs. He pays special attention to the stumps which bear his weight all day, with only a layer of memfoam to separate them from the harsh durasteel innards of the suit.</p>
<p>A small moan escapes him, and he doesn’t try to hold it back. It is a weak sound, his vocal cords still damaged beyond repair. He can speak, but only in whispers.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully as he rubs in more Bacta. “Do you want a massage today?”</p>
<p>He rarely offers it, so Vader is quick to agree. “Please,” he rasps, knowing from experience that Obi-Wan will change his mind if he isn’t polite.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have to do this—any of this. Vader never even asked. His only command is that Obi-Wan must guard him at all times when he isn’t handling the Inquisitors.</p>
<p>And he does, without complaint.</p>
<p>It started small, Obi-Wan assisting him with his bacta baths. Offering to guard him while he takes them more often. He went from taking them as few times as possible, to twice a month, to once a week, and then nearly every day.</p>
<p>He was finally improving—and improving <em>rapidly</em>.</p>
<p>And then, to his despair, Palpatine claimed daily and every-other-day bacta baths were too expensive. Now he is restricted to an allotment of one per week. Which is still far more often than Vader used to take them… but it grates on his nerves nonetheless.</p>
<p>It just goes to show how much his Master truly doesn’t care about him, that he’ll throw trillions of credits at his poorly-conceived moon-sized battle-station… but when Vader, his right hand, finally has the means and desire to safely heal from his wounds, <em>Bacta Baths</em> are too expensive.</p>
<p>They <em>are</em> expensive, and supplies are limited, given how poorly the Empire treats their resource planets… But Vader had thought, perhaps naively, that it wouldn’t matter so long as he could make himself stronger.</p>
<p>Apparently, a stronger Vader isn’t in Sidious’ best interests.</p>
<p>But his old Master, who he lied to and betrayed and tortured… he is here, doing whatever he can to help him within their limited scope of options.</p>
<p>Thankfully, they’ve found other means with which to speed along the healing process. Entire baths are effective, but they aren’t the only way to apply Bacta to his body. Kenobi offered to simply spread the less-costly gel on him nightly, by hand. Vader agreed and thus far, it has been pleasant.</p>
<p>More than pleasant, on some nights.</p>
<p>This is looking like it will be one of those nights.</p>
<p>He groans softly, eyes practically rolling back as Kenobi’s calloused, strong hands press and knead at the stumps where his legs end. They are by far the most pained part of his body, and even these massages ache, but not so much that it outweighs the heavenly relief and pleasure.</p>
<p>He whimpers as a painful knot comes loose, and those merciful hands go still on his skin. “Did I hurt you?”</p>
<p>Vader shakes his head, lip quivering. If he had lungs of his own, he would be gasping shaky breaths. “No,” he speaks, voice quiet without the aid of his modulator. “It feels good.”</p>
<p>With the reassurance that his patient is fine, Obi-Wan continues, fingers working over the aching, sinuous stumps until all Vader can feel is the numbing tingle of Bacta gel. Tears have found their way to his eyes, though more from the overwhelming <em>feeling</em> than any lingering pain.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan goes back up his body, spreading bacta over any places he may have missed, or that he feels could just use some extra.</p>
<p>The whole front of his body tingles pleasantly, leaving him in a blissful, near-painless state. It won’t last forever, so he shuts his eyes to enjoy it while it lasts.</p>
<p>After so many nights feeling Kenobi’s hands soothe his aches and pains to similar effect, he can’t bring himself to feel ashamed by the half-hard erection he’s sporting. After all, Obi-Wan has never been anything but considerate about it. He has never taunted Vader for it, simply acknowledging it as a natural reaction from his body.</p>
<p>Some nights, he ignores it, letting it go down on its own, or when he helps Vader shower. Other nights, he wraps a bacta-slick hand around his scarred length and pumps him to completion.</p>
<p>Tonight, Obi-Wan slowly undresses, bending down to brush the tears from Vader’s cheeks before pressing a kiss against his brow.</p>
<p>“May I?” he asks, that rich Coruscanti accent pitched low. His tone is sincere; always asking, as if Vader might ever say no.</p>
<p>“You know my answer.” If Vader could bring himself to doubt Kenobi again, he might be truly suspicious of these rare offerings—a massage <em>and</em> this, on the same night? As it is, his words are curious, but not accusing. “Am I being rewarded for something?</p>
<p>The graying ginger hums, sitting back on his haunches, nearly out of Vader’s line of sight. He seems to be hesitant to answer. “… You let the girl go.”</p>
<p>He did. Vader remembers it, boarding the rebel ship and decimating their ranks with Kenobi at his side. There was a girl, possibly 14 or 15. He knew her to be Alderaan’s Princess, but for a moment…</p>
<p>For a moment, she had looked so much like Padme, when he had first met her on Tatooine. <em>She</em> had been young then, too. The royal of her planet, and so strong in her desire to help her people.</p>
<p>He hesitated, the girl ran from him, and he let her.</p>
<p>“You reward my weakness,” he responds, tired.</p>
<p>“Compassion is not weakness,” Kenobi counters, stripping off the remainder of his clothing. “Mercy is a strength few possess.”</p>
<p>Vader watches silently as his former Master moves to straddle his chest, spreading his legs so he can reach his bacta-slick fingers to his hole.</p>
<p>What Vader wouldn’t do to have real, living fingers with which he can do this for him.</p>
<p>He’s used his gloved mechanical hands before, but it isn’t the same. The suit relays the feeling of pressure on his fingers… but that’s all. Just pressure, no wetness, no warmth, no texture…</p>
<p>Now, when he can finally have Obi-Wan the way he lusted for him for so many years… he no longer has the limbs necessary. It seems cruel, or perhaps it is just poetic justice.</p>
<p>For now, he can only watch, his dull yellow irises fixed on Kenobi’s body, on the way he moves, twists, and shifts to open himself up.</p>
<p>“Do you call this Mercy, then?” He finally asks, barely enough volume behind his voice to be heard over the noises Obi-Wan makes.</p>
<p>It gives Obi-Wan pause, the man removing his fingers from himself as he regards Vader, his own eyes a piercing gold. “No,” He responds softly, the knuckles of his clean hand going to brush against Vader’s scarred cheek. And—damn him, he leans into the touch despite himself. “No,” Obi-Wan repeats himself. “I wasn’t strong enough to give you mercy when it mattered most. <em>This</em> is penance.”</p>
<p>Vader is quiet for a moment, his respirator making him wait to speak, and think. “Your penance, or mine?”</p>
<p>“A bit of both, I think,” Obi-Wan states, his tone almost unbearably sad.</p>
<p>When Vader says nothing else, Kenobi returns his fingers to his entrance, making quick, efficient work of preparing himself.</p>
<p>Vader simply watches and wishes he could do more. Penance or not, these nights are some of his best, now. They would only be better if he could fully participate, if he could hold Obi-Wan down, plunge his fingers inside him and see his old Master come undone by his own will.</p>
<p>There are other ways he can help, at least. And as he begins to grow impatient, deciding that Obi-Wan is taking too long, he shuts his eyes and calls on the Force.</p>
<p>The Dark Side is a slippery, unpredictable thing, but far more powerful and malleable than the Light Side ever was. It bends to his will, answering his command with little resistance.</p>
<p>Above him, his former Master gasps, releasing a soft <em>‘oh’</em>, as Vader slides a finger made of willpower and energy in alongside his own digits, reaching deep inside him and seeking his prostate.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan goes still, thighs quivering slightly as Vader does this—not for the first time. He bites down a gasp as that metaphysical finger finds its mark, pressing hard against the sensitive bundle of nerves, then stroking over it more gently.</p>
<p>And the <em>noises</em> Obi-Wan makes above him. Short gasps, a keen that he swallows as quickly as it comes. They’re music to Vader, and all the more so because <em>he</em> pulled those sounds from him.</p>
<p>Vader releases his focus then, seeing that he did what he intended, Kenobi’s cock as erect and twitching as his own. His partner shoots him a glare once he recovers, to which Vader only responds with a smug look.</p>
<p>“Don’t rush me, Darth,” Kenobi gripes, tone clipped in his irritation.</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes, seeing as he can’t snort at his ridiculousness. “You were overworking it.”</p>
<p>“You enjoy watching.” Kenobi points out.</p>
<p>“And you like it when I tease you,” he counters, not backing down.</p>
<p>It earns him a soft huff. “… touché.”</p>
<p>He is almost disappointed by how short their argument lasted, as Obi-Wan looks away, shifting himself into a better position. Once, they could banter with one another for hours, but now? Now, it’s nearly impossible to get a rise out of his old Master.</p>
<p>Like himself, time has taken much from Obi-Wan Kenobi. Though Unlike Vader, he doesn’t burn with a simmering rage for all that he has lost. He has become… cold, apathetic to most things.</p>
<p>He seems to care about <em>him</em>, at least… but exactly how much, Vader cannot gauge.</p>
<p>How <em>much</em> Obi-Wan cares does not matter, really. Vader is secure in the knowledge that if Obi-Wan does still have the capacity to care; it is for him, and <em>only</em> for him, as it should be.</p>
<p>His focus is brought back to the present as Obi-Wan takes his length in hand, slicking it with bacta and bringing it to full hardness. The feeling of the cold, tingling Bacta touched to his most sensitive skin has Vader shuddering underneath Obi-Wan, a keen leaving his throat.</p>
<p>Years of nothing touching that part of him but bacta baths, healing most of the nerve damage but not fully repairing the burns to his skin has left him far more sensitive to touch than he once was. Now, Obi-Wan’s touch is overwhelming, even as light and gentle as it is now, teasing him. He bucks his hips involuntarily, earning an amused hum from his partner.</p>
<p>Vader knows that Obi-Wan uses Bacta as lube for more than just convenience. Beyond that and the healing properties it provides both of them during this act, the Bacta helps him handle all this stimulation by providing a numbing effect. Not so much that he can’t feel it at all, but enough that they can do as they please without worrying about him becoming overstimulated to the point of pain (as he did their first few attempts).</p>
<p>Still, the initial touch of the medication leaves his skin buzzing with feeling, and Obi-Wan enjoys the way his eyes roll back at the feeling of too<em> much too-muchtoomuch.</em></p>
<p>It passes, fading away and leaving him aching and thick in Obi-Wan’s hand, looking up to see his lover looking smug and every bit the darksider he now is. He’s beautiful, despite what time and age has done to him, he’s still beautiful, golden eyes glinting down at him with catlike satisfaction.</p>
<p>Vader has little time to appreciate that beauty before Obi-Wan is moving again, getting comfortable on his knees over Vader’s waist. The head of his cock presses against the slicked ring of muscle, and then inside.</p>
<p>For a moment, it is too much again. It is pain and pleasure and <em>feeling</em> all layered over one another in a glorious cacophony that overrides his senses. Tears sting his eyes, words leave his mouth, though he cannot be sure what any of them are, or whether they make any sense in the order he says them.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan is hushing him, a dry, warm hand gently petting his face, brushing away his tears as the feeling slowly subsides, becoming something he can handle once more. “It’s alright, dearest,” he mutters, sound returning to Vader’s senses. “Don’t cry, Anakin…”</p>
<p>Vader flinches, hearing his old, dead name. A name that carries with it so much pain and loss. Anakin was weak. Anakin loved too freely, did not guard his heart or those it cared for. Anakin is dead, and Vader is left in his place.</p>
<p>“Don’t call me that,” he croaks, another shudder running through him.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s expression turns sad again, but he doesn’t argue against his request. Something tells Vader that if he had thought it would be understood, he wouldn’t have said the old name at all.</p>
<p>That hand strokes gently down his face once more and then retreats, much to Vader’s chagrin. “My apologies, Darth. I forgot myself.”</p>
<p>Kenobi doesn’t wait for a response, bearing down instead, taking Vader’s length further inside himself. His walls grip his cock like a vice, always so tight thanks to the bacta they use as lube.</p>
<p>A groan leaves him, along with any grievances he had about the use of his old name, because- <em>oh.</em></p>
<p>It never fails to overwhelm him, that first stroke as Obi-Wan takes him fully within himself. His arm spasms, reaching up before remembering he has no hands to grip his partner with.</p>
<p>He can <em>feel</em> every inch of Obi-Wan around him, the pressure, the heat, the tingling slickness of bacta. He moans as Obi-Wan rolls his hips, his own snapping upwards to sheathe himself deeper.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan gasps at that, still so unused to coupling with him. He’s told Vader before—no matter how many times they join, he can’t get used to the combination of the bacta and the unique texture Vader’s dick has; the irreparable burn scars. His thighs shake as he struggles to acclimate now, his cool, calm demeanor slipping.</p>
<p>Vader smiles, thrusting up again and pulling a punched gasp from his partner.</p>
<p>Kenobi bows his head, lifting his hips slightly and gripping the sheets on either side of Vader’s chest.</p>
<p>He reaches up with his right stump, carefully running the flat side of his arm down Kenobi’s left. In turn, his partner lifts that hand to grip his forearm, just below where it ends.</p>
<p>Vader thrusts up again, able to get more power behind it now that Obi-Wan is a bit higher. It is <em>good</em>, as much for the feeling of sinking deep into that tight, warm cavern as it is for the way Obi-Wan’s expression twists in ecstasy. A choked sound leaves him, and Vader knows he must have brushed his prostate that time.</p>
<p>He gets two more thrusts in before Obi-Wan stops him, tapping his arm and pressing his hips down, trapping his partner underneath him, cock fully seated inside him. “As- as lovely as that feels,” he starts, voice unsteady, “this is for you, tonight. Let me take care of you, dear.”</p>
<p>Vader grunts, settling himself down as much as his keyed up body allows. His mind is a haze, too impatient and overrun by pleasure to come up with words.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Kenobi mutters, collecting himself with a small squeeze to Vader’s wrist.</p>
<p>When he starts moving, it’s a slow thing; drawing himself nearly all the way up before sliding back down. His movements are steady, taking his time familiarizing himself with the rise and fall of his hips, with the way Vader fills him up. Vader goes cross-eyed as Obi-Wan flexes around him, the tight squeeze nearly too much. They moan in unison, then Obi-Wan is moving up again, picking up his pace.</p>
<p>He continues like that, increasing his pace with each rise and fall. Kenobi’s length hits Vader’s belly with each downstroke, Obi-Wan paying himself no mind as he focuses on drawing out his partner’s pleasure.</p>
<p>Soon, Vader doesn’t need to put any thought towards settling himself. With Obi-Wan controlling the pace, squeezing him on every upstroke and encasing him so completely on each downstroke, Vader is soon too busy enjoying the waves of pleasure and <em>feeling</em> to be of much use otherwise.</p>
<p>It isn’t much longer before his partner is practically bouncing on his length, the wet slap of bacta-slick flesh accompanying each movement.</p>
<p>Neither of them can hold back the sounds they make, too lost in the bliss of this act with one another to worry about such pointless things.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s legs are trembling with exertion as he moves, his breathing equally shaky. “An- Anakin-” he babbles, and Vader grits his teeth.</p>
<p>It’s instinct, really, more than any conscious thought that has him reaching out with the force—wrapping it around Obi-Wan’s throat. “That isn’t my name,” he growls lowly, holding Obi-Wan in place on his cock with the force cutting off his air supply. “Say <em>my</em> name,” he demands, eyes burning as he lets up enough for Obi-Wan to speak.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s eyes look back down at him sharply as the grip on his throat makes him refocus, pain and defiance in the molten gold of his irises. “… You will… always… be Anakin to me.”</p>
<p>Vader snarls, his force-grip growing tighter around Kenobi’s neck.</p>
<p>His partner gasps, unable to draw in air. Rather than fighting it, however, Obi-Wan seems to only draw more pleasure from the act, and with a full-body shudder he tips over the edge, clenching around Vader as he comes in messy white spurts.</p>
<p>The impossibly tighter pressure on his length has Vader letting go of his hold on the force, the surprise and stimulation triggering his own orgasm. He cries out, hips jerking as he spills inside his partner, neither of them having the time nor inclination to warn the other.</p>
<p>He shakes through his climax, his stump of an arm held in a vicelike grip as Obi-Wan trembles through his own.</p>
<p>Then Obi-Wan is off of him, moving before Vader can even register all that just happened. He doesn’t go far, just dropping himself onto the other side of the bed, spent and shaking. Vader feels the loss acutely, already missing the warmth of another body against his skin.</p>
<p>No—Kenobi crossed a line. He won’t pine for him.</p>
<p>Vader turns himself onto his side, wanting to get a better look at his partner. His back is turned to him, and Vader can easily see his wet, stretched hole. His ass is shiny with Bacta, and as Vader watches, his seed starts to spill back out of him, dripping down one reddened asscheek like a pearly tear.</p>
<p>Transfixed, he reaches out with the force, pushing it back inside his lover and earning a shiver in response.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” he thinks to ask then, his high beginning to wear off. Belatedly, it occurs to him that even though Obi-Wan climaxed from it, he <em>might</em> not be entirely on board with being force-choked without warning.</p>
<p>The other darksider tenses, then gives a quiet cough. “Fine,” he croaks, voice rough from the abuse to his windpipe.</p>
<p>It is a lie, Vader knows it. Now, he begins to worry. He doesn’t touch Obi-Wan again, not wanting to frighten him off or hurt him more.</p>
<p>His heart seizes in his chest, memories of Padme and Mustafar flashing back through his mind <em>no</em>—<em>not again can’tlosethemagain pleasepleasebeokaypleasedon’tleaveme</em></p>
<p>The room trembles along with his sudden, gripping fear. “Master,” he murmurs, feeling once again small and helpless.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan turns then, eyes wide with surprise. His neck is already mottled with fresh bruises, and the sight just instils further guilt in Vader. “… what did you say?” he asks, his voice quiet in its roughness.</p>
<p>“Master,” Vader calls again, a lump sticking in his throat as he uses the old title. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan seems to realize, then, what this might be reminiscent of, and his confusion dissolves into sad understanding. He gingerly touches his neck and offers Vader a smile. “… It is alright, dear one… It’s only a few bruises. I’ve lived through much worse.” He pauses, “I know you didn’t mean to—I pushed you, I shouldn’t have. You’re forgiven.” It sounds painful for him to speak, but he does so anyways, reassuring his partner that all is well.</p>
<p>The words go a long way to relax Vader, though he still looks over his old friend with open concern. (perhaps he was wrong to think before that what he and Obi-Wan shared wasn’t love—or maybe he was right, and love is not meant to be this codependant.)</p>
<p>Seeing that Vader isn’t about to fully relax anytime soon, Obi-Wan sighs, reaching for the bacta container. While his partner watches, he dabs the gel onto his neck, massaging it over his forming bruises.</p>
<p>When he speaks again, it already sounds less painful. “See? Perfectly alright.” He sets the container aside, reluctantly pulling himself up onto unsteady legs. “… We need to clean up, I’ll be right back, dear.”</p>
<p>Vader nods, watching him go to the fresher to give himself a quick wash before coming back. Obi-Wan has a wet cloth in hand, which he uses to wipe the tacky semen up from Vader’s chest and dick.</p>
<p>Once they’re both clean, he touches up Vader’s bacta, then lays back down. In an act of affection Vader has never shown before, he rolls himself over, wrapping one arm around his lover and tucking his head so he can press his brow into the dip between Kenobi’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan makes a wordless, questioning noise, and Vader responds with a contented hum.</p>
<p>“I want to feel your heartbeat,” He explains himself, truthfully. He wants to know Obi-Wan’s heart is beating strong, that he’s healthy and <em>here</em>, and he can’t leave while Vader has his arm around him.</p>
<p>He feels the odd shift in the force as Kenobi registers his meaning, the words he didn’t say.</p>
<p>Carefully, the other darksider places his hand over Vader’s stump, guiding it to rest over his heart and holding it there. “Of course, my dear,” he answers, voice so very fragile. “It is yours.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan probably thinks he’s speaking to Anakin, but it doesn’t matter. Vader feels a vicious surge of satisfaction at the admission, smiling as he feels the beating of Obi-Wan’s heart against his forehead and arm.</p>
<p><em>Yes,</em> he thinks with a streak of possessiveness. <em>Mine.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks to all my friends on the discord for cheering me on while I wrote this! <strike>And for being filthy enablers who let me use this title dkfjnkjgnkre</strike></p>
<p>Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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